Stolen Moments
by connectedanon
Summary: She tells herself it's enough. That's her mantra: it's enough. The bits and pieces are better than nothing at all, she thinks.


**A/N: **For sneakygays. Based on a post that can be found on afterfringe's tumblr (post/43730733876/end-it-now)

* * *

She tells herself it's enough. That's her mantra: it's enough. The bits and pieces are better than nothing at all, she thinks.

While sitting on the edge of the white sheets of the half-made bed, she fidgets with a small band of silver on her hand; her right, not her left. It's thin and simple, and it rests daintily at the base of her finger. She moves to slide it over to her left hand, just to see how it looks. To know how it feels- to pretend- but a _tap-tap-tap_ on the door startles her and causes her to fumble the ring. It falls on the carpet and she curses as she drops to the ground, letting her hands feel around in search of it.

Mentally, she berates herself for taking it off for such a silly purpose. She knows she'd never forgive herself if she lost it.

It's all she has.

Well, other than these moments in hotel rooms every few weeks; or times in a cramped bathroom at a local coffee shop; or the imagined times when she's lonely in her bed at night.

That ring is the only _tactile_ thing she has. Again, she tells herself it's enough. (It isn't.)

There's another_ tap-tap-tap_ on the door, louder this time, and she pushes herself off the ground and rushes to the door, one hand flying to the door knob, the other combing nervously through her hair.

When she opens the door, Rachel is standing there, a worried look on her face and the "What took you so long?" dies on her tongue while the furrow of her brow deepens as she takes in Quinn's current state. Instead, she asks "what's wrong, love?"

Quinn winces at the term. She craves it so desperately, but she knows that it's not rightfully hers. Not when there are two other people across town who have laid claim to Rachel's love already. Two people who get to love Rachel right back. A family. Rachel's family. One where she plays no role other than Rachel's "friend."

When Rachel lightly pushes past her, shutting the door and grabbing her hand, Quinn shakes her head of the thought because she's in no mood to deal with _that_ right now.

"I just- I lost my ring," she says, lamely.

"What?" Rachel's hair swishes from side to side as she shakes her head in slight disbelief. "Wha- how? Where?"

"Here. Well, by the bed. It... it just fell and I was trying to find it when you knocked." Instantly, Rachel moves toward the bed, places her purse on it and then drops to her knees to search for the ring. Quinn doesn't seem to register it for a while, until Rachel turns to look at her and says "help me look."

Five minutes later, Rachel exclaims an "ah-ha!" and plucks it from underneath the bed. "It must've rolled under here when it fell," she reasons.

"Yeah, must've," Quinn whispers in agreement, trying not to cry out in relief. But when Rachel grasps her hand and slides the ring back into place, Quinn whimpers as she crumbles against Rachel, tears in her eyes.

When Rachel asks her if she's okay, she lies and says she's just happy she didn't lose it. In truth, she cries because she wishes that the ring's home would be on her left hand. She wishes it were her wedding band. She wishes...

And when Rachel just rubs at her back and teases her for being so sappy about losing it for only a few minutes, she wants to scream out, but she wipes at her eyes and holds it in.

Later on, when the white sheets cover their bare torsos and she pretends to be asleep, she can feel the cool metal of Rachel's own ring sliding across her skin, caressing her bare shoulder and it makes her smile for a moment, until she realizes it's Rachel's left hand and what she's feeling on her skin isn't_ their ring_, but it's Rachel's wedding ring. Her smile disappears, taking the form of a watery frown and she clamps her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.

* * *

"Are you still going to come over this weekend for Natalie's birthday party? She keeps asking about you, and she wants you there."

The mention of Rachel's daughter makes her stomach flip uncomfortably, because she adores the child, she really does, but it stings to know that she's not theirs, as in hers and Rachel's. That only serves to remind her that, yes, Rachel is married. Yes, she has a daughter. Yes, she has a husband. Yes, she has Quinn, too (in secret).

But who does Quinn have?

"What about Marcus?" Although she whispered the question, she knows Rachel heard it because her body stiffens in her arms for seconds at a time before she relaxes and evenly replies.

"What about him?"

"I don't-" she stops herself, hoping not to offend Rachel. "I know you've told me he doesn't suspect, but I don't want-" She doesn't even get to finish her sentence before Rachel leaps from the bed- this time, the hotel's sheets are beige, with a faint flowery pattern- and starts to search for her shirt.

"Jesus, Quinn. If you don't want to be there, you don't have to go. You could have just fucking said so. I was just asking because Natalie wanted you to be there to celebrate, but I'll make an excuse for you if I have to."

"Rachel, that's not what I'm saying," Quinn says in a voice she hopes comes off as controlled, hopping off the bed and draping the sheet over herself. "You know how much I care for Natalie, and I want to be there!"

"Then what's the problem, huh? Marcus? My fucking _husband_, Quinn? Because he certainly hasn't stopped you from fucking me for years, so why should he stop you from going to a damn party?" As soon as the words leave her mouth, her eyes widen and Quinn's face falls.

Quinn won't cry. She won't let herself. And when Rachel realizes what she's said, she extends her arm to touch her.

"Quinn, I'm- I didn't..." she starts to say, but Quinn takes two steps back, physically recoiling from Rachel, her body slightly doubling over at the waist as if she just got punched in the chest. She may as well have been, because there's a definite ache there.

"Don't," she whimpers, hoping her voice doesn't crack, but it does and she turns her head to the wall, avoiding Rachel's eyes. "Just go back home to your family, Rachel."

Two minutes later, the door closes behind Rachel and Quinn crumples down onto the bed, her chest heaving with sobs, her eyes stinging with tears, and her heart aching with a hatred for the love she holds for Rachel.

* * *

That Sunday, she leads herself through the fence gate and into the backyard that's decorated with brightly colored balloons and signs. She swipes her fingers along the light yellow ribbon on the gift in her hands before placing it on a table.

"Quinn! You came!" A small brunette runs up to her, her tiny arms circling Quinn's neck and hugging her close. "Momma said you might not make it because of work, but I told her- I told her you would make it. You always make it."

"You know I wouldn't miss one of your birthdays for the world. Especially your sixth. It's a special one." The small girl beams at her, and Quinn can feel the force of it blossom and warm her whole body.

"You said that about the fifth one, and the fourth one, and... well, I don't really remember the others, but I'm sure you said that about those, too," she laughs.

"It's true, though. They're all special if they mean you've graced this world with your presence another year." Natalie just giggles and Quinn hugs her a little bit tighter before letting her go to run and play with her friends.

When she's walking back down the driveway, she hears Rachel call out her name and she spins around to look at her. She knows she shouldn't fall more in love with Rachel just by looking at her in that light green dress, but she does so anyway.

"I just wanted to thank you for coming, even for only a few minutes. I know it means the world to her that you dropped by."

Quinn wants to say something stupid like "well, _you_ mean the world to me," but she refrains and only gives Rachel a small smile in response before turning and leaving.

As she drives away, Rachel simply stands there and hates herself for not asking Quinn to stay a little bit longer. For her, this time. She briefly imagines Quinn agreeing and discreetly leading her into the bathroom, only to push herself up onto the sink, flip up the skirt of her dress and make Quinn take her right there.

Her stomach drops when she feels an arm circle around her waist and a hand rest on her hip as Marcus places a kiss on her temple and cluelessly says "hey, was that Quinn? She should've stayed longer."

Rachel clears her throat and says, "yeah, she had to do some work and just stopped by to say hello and drop off a present for Natalie."

"Oh," is all he says, and Rachel feels her skin crawl because, even though this isn't the first time she's lied to him, and it certainly isn't as big of a deal as the other times, she hates that she does it so easily. Even worse, she hates that she doesn't feel bad for what she's doing. For what she's done to their marriage, and their vows, and their family. She does, however, hate herself for what she's doing to Quinn. But she does nothing about any of it. She just turns to rest her hand on Marcus's chest for a second, leans up to kiss him, and leads him to the kitchen to prepare the candles on Natalie's cake.

* * *

The loud ringing wakes her from her sleep and she curses when she fumbles for her phone and the bright light of the screen makes her eyes hurt. She swipes her finger across the bottom and mumbles a sleepy, "Hello... Rach? What's wrong? Are you okay? Is Natalie-"

"I'm fine, she's fine, everything's fine," Rachel says hurriedly.

"Then what's- I mean, it's..." she pulls the phone away from her ear, looks at the screen, and then pulls it back. "It's almost three thirty in the morning, what's going on?"

"Shit," Rachel whispers. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so late. Go back to bed. Sorry."

"No, no," Quinn sits up on her bed and leans over to turn on her bedside lamp. "It's fine, really. What's up? What's on your mind?"

"I... it's stupid, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

"It's fine, I promise. Tell me?"

"I miss you." The line is silent for a few beats, and Rachel feels like an idiot while Quinn just holds her breath. After a while Rachel makes a sound that Quinn recognizes as a forced laugh, and says "I told you it was stupid. I'll let you go back to sleep. Goodnight."

"Come over," is Quinn's reply and when Rachel responds with a breathy "okay," Quinn hates herself for offering, and she hates that she's excited that Rachel agreed.

* * *

"Quinn," Rachel breathes out. "Quinn- _oh, god._"

They usually reserve their moments for hotels and other discrete locations, but have never allowed them to take place at either of their homes. So when Rachel _tap-tap-tapped_ on her door just thirty minutes after the call ended, Quinn had raced to the door, a grin on her face.

Maybe this would change things for them, Quinn thought. Just maybe. Even if it didn't, Quinn told herself it was still worth it.

She had pulled Rachel in, bypassed the kitchen and the two mugs of coffee that she had prepared, and led her straight to her bedroom while tugging at Rachel's clothes, and then her own.

Now, Rachel's hair is fanned out against the deep red fabric of Quinn's pillowcase, her back arching as she continues to chant Quinn's name. Her hands slide down her own body, grazing her breasts and past her navel, settling in Quinn's hair and tugging at it lightly.

Quinn's arms are wrapped underneath Rachel, looping over to press down along her hips in an attempt to hold her still while pulling her closer. Her tongue darts out, firm and confident and she can feel Rachel's foot dig into her back as her thighs tremble against her cheeks.

Rachel comes with a satisfied sigh and a low moan. When Quinn swipes at her mouth, the metal of her ring touching her lip makes her shiver, but she tries to ignore the pull in her heart in favor of the pull further south as Rachel pushes at her chest to make her lay down and straddles her hips. Rachel's right hand slips between her thighs, her fingers circling, pushing, and pulling, and Quinn wonders how she let this become her reality.

She isn't supposed to be doing this with Rachel. Not like this. Rachel is married. With a daughter, she reminds herself for the millionth time.

And Quinn? Quinn is... Quinn is who she calls up when she's lonely. She knows that they had both agreed to do this- whatever "this" is. And she knows that, at the end of the day, Rachel will never choose her.

Still... she tells herself that this is still love. She loves Rachel, and Rachel loves her back, even if she may love her husband more. Rachel wouldn't keep doing this with her if she didn't love her, right? She tries to reason with herself, her mind asking a million questions, while her body gives a million and one different answers.

She can feel the strain of her muscles tensing, her head pushing back into the pillow as her body stiffens. When she comes, she can't tell if the sound that escapes from her mouth is a moan or a sob.

The tears pricking at her eyes tell her the answer. Quickly, she wipes them away as Rachel shifts and sits up, her back toward Quinn as she leans forward to grab her pants from the ground.

Quinn doesn't want to feel needy or clingy, but she can't stop herself from saying "stay," and the rejection courses painfully through her body when Rachel says, "I can't. It's my turn to take Natalie to school today, and she's got an early choir rehearsal." She gets dressed and places a soft kiss on Quinn's lips before she leaves.

Later, when Quinn wakes up, she realizes it's Saturday and that Rachel had lied to her.

* * *

Two weeks pass before she hears from Rachel again. She picks up her phone without thinking and hears Natalie's voice come through.

"Quinn! I got a role in the school play, today, and we're going out to celebrate. Please, please, please, come!"

"I.." Before she replies, she can hear some shuffling and then Rachel's voice lands on her ears.

"Hey."

"Hey, back."

"So, yeah. She's really excited and begged me to let her invite you. You don't have t-"

"I'll go."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, sure. I just- I'll text you directions, then."

Four hours later, they're leaving the restaurant and Natalie hasn't left Quinn's side all night. She had bombarded Quinn with all the details of the play, who else auditioned, and then shyly asked if Quinn would go to opening day.

"Of course, kiddo. Anything for you." Natalie smiles at her and hops into the backseat of Rachel's car.

Quinn waves a goodbye to her, and she turns to say goodbye to Rachel but is met with Marcus's strong build instead and gently collides with him.

"Sorry," she says. "I didn't see you there." She tries to laugh it off, but the lack of humor on his face shuts her up.

"Let me lead you to your car," he offers, noting that she parked at the far end. She wants to refuse him, but nods instead.

In her mind, she thinks "_oh, fuck. He knows. He _knows._ Oh, god._" She keeps waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop, and for him to confront her, so she holds her breath and tries to keep her heart from thundering too loudly.

Instead, he gently places his hand on her shoulder and says, "I just wanted to thank you for... for everything you do for Natalie, she really adores you. And Rachel, too." _Here it comes... here it comes. Breathe._ "I know I'm usually caught up at work, and I really appreciate you and the friendship you have with her. Anyway, I don't wanna get too mushy, I have a rep, y'know," he jokes, and she forces a laugh past the lump in her dry throat. "Just... yeah, thanks. Goodnight, Quinn. Oh, and text Rachel to let her know you got home safely, or you know we'll worry."

Like the gentleman that he is, he stays close by as she gets in her car and drives off, and Quinn tries not to cry until she gets home. When she walks through her door and tosses her keys on the counter, she realizes that he said "_we'll_ worry," which means he cares for her, too, and she feels like a terrible human being.

* * *

Days later, she's putting away her laundry when the sunlight catches on the band, reflecting sharply and sending a harsh glint into her line of sight. She sighs as she realizes what it's from, and she shakes her head as she moves to take it off, a shirt unfolding within her grasp.

As it slides from her finger, she thinks of all the time she's wasted waiting. Waiting for Rachel. Waiting for a life together. Waiting for her happy ending.

Waiting and watching. Watching Rachel have it all... with someone else. Watching the world pass her by. Watching herself fall apart each day, slowly and subtly until she lost herself. She had told herself so many lies of how this would play out; of how it was worth it, of how it was enough.

Bitterly, she realizes that her stolen moments with Rachel were just that: _moments_. Not a life.

"Enough," she whispers to herself, angrily. "Enough." Gently, she places the ring on the dark wood of her dresser. "It's _not_ enough," she whimpers, her face in her hands, the forgotten shirt slipping and falling to the ground.


End file.
